Summer of Running 4 Type 2 Fun continues with a Backyard Ultra
The Backyard Ultra is the brainchild of Gary “Lazarus Lake” Cantrell, who often goes simply as “Laz”. He’s wildly creative and, I assume, cheerfully sadistic. Laz’s other claim to pain is the notorious Barkley Marathons, “The Race that Eats its Young”, which is so hard that very few who enter are able to finish.
Laz started a craze in 2011 with his Big Dog Backyard Ultra in Bell Buckle, Tennessee where he lives. The race takes place in his backyard. There are many other Backyard Ultras around the world now. Big Dog, though, remains the flagship event.
It is a multi-loop race wherein each loop is 4.167 miles. Runners have one hour to complete it. Upon finishing a loop, runners have the remainder of the hour to rest, refuel, hydrate, use the toilet, or whatever. Then they line up for the next one.
Any runner unable to complete a loop in an hour is eliminated. When only one runner is able to start a loop, they get to run the last loop solo and are declared the winner. Every one else did not finish.
I imagined the first few laps might be easy. Most runners can readily complete the 4.167 miles in 40–50 minutes. Pacing is key. As in any endurance race, starting out too fast burns up resources quickly making the latter miles tenuous.
The 4.167 mile loop distance is chosen so that 24 such loops — one day’s worth — equals 100 miles. In 2012, the winner of Big Dog, Joe Fejes, took the title after 28 loops (116.7 miles). Last year, Harvey Lewis won with a record of 108 loops (450 miles).
Let that sink in. Harvey Lewis ran for four and a half days with only a few minutes of rest every hour. That’s astoundingly insane.
My goal was much more modest. I just wanted to see if I could do 12 loops in the Backyard Ultra format. That works out to 50 miles. To date the longest I have run is a marathon (26.2 miles) although I have done two of them on consecutive days in different cities (Chicago and Boston in 2021.) Nothing in my running past suggests that at 63 years old I am capable of running 50 miles in 12 hours.
I have learned some things in these past few years of running under the influence of Parkinson’s disease. As to limits: Past experience is not a good indicator of them.
True, the odds were against me. But I had made a plan and told the world about it*. There was no room for debate. I wanted to give it a shot. One doesn’t beat Parkinson’s without a solid measure of audacity.
Besides, it would undoubtedly be a valuable learning experience. There may even be some joy along the way.
I set up my garage as the rest stop between loops. A table was loaded with food and other consumables. I had a cooler packed with ice for keeping drinks and some watermelon slices cold. On another table several changes of running kit and shoes were assembled.
A few years back, we built a gym in the garage and outfitted it with a heat pump to allow heating and cooling. The gym would be my cooling station for when the temperature ramped up in the afternoon.
I sketched out my plan on the white board in the gym. I would need to consume 500 calories of carbs each hour. Electrolyte replenishment would vary depending on the outdoor temperature and the severity of leg cramps. Most likely 500–800 mg of Na would be needed every hour.
I expected the ultra to cause more gastrointestinal distress than a marathon. Hence, I assembled a variety of foods hoping that one or more of them would do the trick if my gut became balky. Besides the watermelon, I had Tailwind Endurance Formula, Untapped Maple Syrup gels, potato chips, baked potatoes, and home-baked cookies. For sodium replenishment, I brought in SaltStick electrolyte tablets, a container of table salt, the Tailwind, and Zym tablets.
I expected friends to join me for some of the loops. Chairs were set out for them. There was plenty of food and drink for any supporters who came by.
My wife, Lynn, had planned a weekend getaway with her two sisters. She was reluctant to leave me on my own knowing that my stubborness could get me into trouble. I think she worried that my Type 2 Fun adventure might slip into that Type 3 life-threatening kind.
I reassured her that I would be fine. The folks joining me could be trusted to keep me safe.
Most Backyard Ultras have somewhat challenging, scenic courses. I routed mine through Schmitz Park that featured dirt trails, a stream crossing, and 220 feet of elevation gain. Schmitz exits onto surface streets at about the 1.5 mile mark. Another 110 feet of elevation gain takes the runner to 2.0 miles then the route goes flat for a bit before heading back downhill to my garage.
Two weeks earlier, during my 4x4x48 challenge, a sciatica flare-up made running awkward and painful. In the interim it had responded well to physical therapy and I downgraded it to a niggle, a mere annoyance.
I started my Garmin and the first loop at 8 am. The temperature was a reasonable 62 degrees. I finished it in a bit over 43 minutes, ate and hydrated to plan then knocked off the second loop in 45 minutes. Erika joined me for the third loop which we finished in 46 minutes. I aimed to average 11 minutes per mile and we were on target.
It was heating up though. Seeing this, Erika pointed out that I might want to flatten out the loop. The hill might be too much.
“No shame in that,” she said, referring to adopting the lesser challenge. I was beginning to agree.
Erika had to leave but vowed to return later in the day. On the fourth loop— solo at 11 am and 67 degrees — I started to wilt but still completed it in 46 minutes.
Erica (note the different spelling) was waiting for me at the garage at the end of the fourth loop. The next one was scheduled to start at noon and the temperature had risen to 69. It would reach the mid-seventies soon. That spelled trouble. I never do well in that kind of heat and my body had already started to fade. Something had to change.
That’s when I decided that the Backyard Ultra adventure had run its course. Four loops was it. I pivoted to a more flexible strategy with the goal of getting to 50 miles by whatever means my body allowed.
I discussed the new strategy with Erica and she needed no convincing. She had already noted that my movements were unsure and wobbly.
We chose a flat out and back but otherwise full distance for the next loop, which started on time at noon. As expected, the heat got to me and I had to walk some of it. I needed to cool down.
Earlier I had tried to get the AC working in the gym but I was unable to connect to it with my phone app. A storm the night before had taken out the garage wi fi. Erica saved the day. She ignored my fumbling and reached for the system’s local remote mounted on the wall. Doh! She had it cooled down within minutes. I finally had a legitimate cool-down room.
Despite the route flattening, this loop drained me. Leg cramps came on strong and I downed six Zym tablets (~1800 mg of Na!) dissolved in a liter of cold water.
Erica stayed with me for the next three legs. They no longer resembled the prescribed Backyard Ultra loops. Distances were shortened, start times were pushed out, and intermittent walking was necessary.
Erica was terrific company. We talked of running strategies, injuries, a horrific incident when a car hit her while she was running 10 years ago, and her son’s recently discovered aptitude for race walking — the most disrespected of Olympic sports.
At one point, we came upon a lady who sang out in a sweet British accent, “I love your pink socks!” I smiled and thanked her as we ran by.
I told Erica that this sentiment was common. “Usually,” I said, “I get it from women. Sometimes from men though.”
As if on cue, the next person we passed was a muscular, shirtless guy who yelled out, “Oh, I love those socks. I really appreciate them!”
When we got back to the garage at the end of Erica’s shift, Erika and Larry were waiting for us. Larry had joked by text earlier that he’d definitely be joining me knowing that there would be cookies available.
We bid farewell to Erica and the three of us took off for the next segment. The 3 pm scheduled start time slid to 3:30, the route was shortened to a flat 3.2 miles, and we walked all of it.
Erika is an accomplished, fast runner and she has been helping me out ever since we met three years ago. She continues to evolve her approach to running and I was surprised to learn that she has been seeing the same physical therapist for twenty years.
“Oh”, I said, “you mean since high school?”
She laughed. “No, but since my twenties.”
She recently bought a book entitled “Advanced Marathoning” with the intent of revising her training strategy.
When her husband saw the title he said, “Advanced? What have you been doing up till now?”
We returned to the garage just as a gust of wind stirred up an otherwise calm afternoon. As we waited it out, Andrew came along and Erika had to leave to meet her family coming in to SeaTac airport.
I learned that Larry was a Miniature Schnauzer devotee just like Lynn and I. We bonded over our respective dog photos while I waited for my leg cramps to dissipate.
During the next segment (scheduled for a 4 pm start but delayed to 5:00), I suggested to Larry and Andrew that, since we were walking, we take it a bit farther all the way to Lincoln Park, a round trip of 7.5 miles. They were game and reminded me that they were there for support and I was to call the shots.
I felt remiss for walking so much when this was meant as a running adventure. But every now and then my legs would seize up in cramps to remind me that my options were limited.
We chatted about running, injuries, physical therapy, etc. Like myself, Andrew often fundraises for Team Fox of the Michael J. Fox Foundation. He has done the Dopey Challenge with Team Fox in Disney World wherein runners run the 5K, 10K, half marathon, and full marathon on four consecutive days. Sounds fun.
This loop took more than two hours to complete. Andrew and Larry had other responsibilities for the evening. I let them know how grateful I was for their support as they headed home.
Larry’s parting words to me were, “Make good choices.”
It was at 7:30 pm. By my original schedule, I should have been nearly done. Yet, I had covered only 37 miles. Lynn checked in by text to see how it was going. I told her I thought I needed another three hours.
“Oh dear,” she wrote. “Your last video was heartbreaking. You look very sick to tell you the truth.” I had been sending her periodic video updates of my status.
I considered how best to finish the last 13 miles. If walking was to predominate then rest stops made no sense. I no longer had to worry about maintaining my carb intake. Walking primarily burns fat and I was carrying plenty of that around my waist. For hydration, I could choose a route that featured water fountains.
It was getting dark. I decided that I would go out and not come back home until the 50 miles were done.
It had cooled off though and I was feeling better. I ran for two miles but knee pain forced me to walk the next one. I was hoping to keep up this alternating run/walk the rest of the way but the pain in my knee and, now, in my hip, made running untenable.
I thought that odd. “Running” at that point was about as fast as walking — ~17–18 minutes per mile — yet was much more painful. Something must be very off in my form if I can walk pain-free at the same pace as I ran with severe pain.
By mile 44, walking stopped being pain-free. Just about every step released a burst of f-bombs. The last half mile was a slow, excruciating wobble until, with great joy, I stepped into my yard and stopped my Garmin.
Just after midnight, I messaged Lynn and others to let them know I was done. What I had originally planned to do in 12 hours took all of 16 to complete.
The following day was as one would expect. Walking (shuffling, really, to be generous) was awkward and slow. That pain in my left knee had increased and the joint buckled when I put weight on it. My left hip bitched at me with each step.
Erika texted to ask how I was doing (damn, I have the greatest friends). I briefed her on how the adventure ended and assured her that I was spending my recovery day eating and napping.
It is now two days afterwards and I’m walking almost normally with only minor discomfort. Seems a rather quick recovery. I can’t explain that but I am not complaining. It gives me hope that I will fully heal in time for my last challenge of the summer coming up in two weeks — a ~50 mile run around Lake Washington.
*The Backyard Ultra is the second of three self-inflicted endurance events dubbed “Running 4 Type 2 Fun” that I am undertaking as part of the Michael J. Fox Foundation Summer Challenge Fundraiser. If you would like more information and/or instructions on how to make a donation, make a comment to that effect on this page and I will provide.
